The High Country
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #64 Hard feelings between Spock's son and Kirk's ward lead to an adventure in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho.


Jim Kirk came out of his ranch house, and stopping on the porch for a morning stretch, knew by the sun's intensity that the day would be a hot one. Judging by the hammering beyond the barn, the carpenters had decided to get an early start. Lame Wolf would be out there watching as soon as his chores were finished, but Jim knew he would not rush through them. At fourteen, the Indian youth had a better work ethic than some grown men. Now that Lame Wolf was legally in his care, Jim had decided to go ahead and enlarge his horse operation. It was early July, and construction was well underway on a new stable.

As Jim stepped off the porch, his daughter Tru ran up, cradling a pair of Mallard ducklings—a gift from Lame Wolf on her recent sixth birthday. Her strawberry blonde hair and freckled nose made him think of his late mother, Winona. She had been a real animal lover, too.

"If you keep carrying those ducks around," he teased, "they might forget how to walk."

"Oh Daddy," she said with a giggle.

Tru put the ducklings down. As she skipped across the yard, they set up a ruckus and waddled after her. Jim was on his way to the construction site when he heard barking. A moment later Jamie S'chn T'gai rode up on Biscuit, trailing a half-grown dog on a long leash behind him.

"Quiet, Dusty!" Jamie yelled. The shaggy brown mongrel tucked in his tail and went silent.

Jamie dismounted.

"Well," Jim said with a smile, "are you getting ready for the Iowa farm country?"

The teenager's face set like a full-blooded Vulcan's. "No, sir. That's why I came over. You see…I've changed my mind about the job."

 _"_ _What?"_ Jim could scarcely believe his ears. The summer job with his cousin Lucas had been arranged months ago. Jamie was due at the farm on the first of August.

"It's because of Dusty," Jamie said. "I don't want to leave him in the middle of training."

Jim did not care for the excuse. "It's only for a month. The dog will be there when you get back. Jamie, you begged for that job."

Jamie's slanted eyebrows drew together in a frown. "Father didn't really want me to go, anyway."

Jim struggled to understand. "You didn't care about that before. What changed? Do you want me to talk to Spock?"

 _"_ _No,"_ Jamie said emphatically.

Shaking his head in disgust, Jim walked away.

Jamie was about to mount up and leave when he spied Lame Wolf by the paddock. His simmering sense of resentment grew. Maybe he should have gone ahead and taken the job. After all, who was he really hurting? But right now, he could think of no better way to get back at Jim.

 _I really am starting to hate this place,_ he thought _._ Nothing had been the same here since Lame Wolf…quite literally…stole his way into the family. The thieving kid had taken Jim's stallion. Jamie had helped capture Lame Wolf and return the horse. Together with his brother Simon, he had wrestled Lame Wolf to the ground. And what was the Indian's punishment for stealing? Jim had not punished him at all, but rewarded him with a colt of his own and legal guardianship. Now, Lame Wolf was even calling him "Uncle". _Uncle!_ Well, Jamie had been calling Jim Kirk "Uncle" for years. He had spent countless long weekends working here at Jim's side, had lived here for months after Mom and Teresa died, and now here he was, riding nothing but an old loaner horse while Lame Wolf had an Appaloosa colt to raise.

Out in the paddock, a young horse whinnied. Lame Wolf was working with his colt. It was mostly gray and had a white rump spotted with black, just like his sire, Warcloud. Warrior would be a beautiful horse.

Jamie burned with envy, but there was another pain in his heart that went even deeper. In anticipation of his summer job away from home, his father and T'Naisa had talked to him about xeno-prejudice. Jamie was fifteen and had heard news reports about the CUE organization, but he had never personally encountered any serious racial bigotry on Earth or on Vulcan. Now, for the first time, he began to feel alienated from others. The coming of Lame Wolf had only brought the situation into sharper focus. Suddenly it seemed to Jamie that he no longer belonged anywhere. Apparently he was not even human enough for Jim, and there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

Caught up in his emotions, he scarcely realized that he had entered the paddock until Lame Wolf turned his way and let go of the colt.

"James," said the Indian, soberly eyeing him.

"Duncan!" Jamie spat the name that Lame Wolf used at school. "Duncan Redfern, why don't you go back where you came from?"

"This is my home," Lame Wolf said levelly. "Uncle…"

"He _isn't_ your uncle!" Jamie snapped. The young horse trotted past him. He caught the lead rope and yanked it hard.

"Let him go," Lame Wolf warned.

Jamie confronted him, his free hand balled into a fist. "Make me."

Lame Wolf's dark eyes studied him. The Indian brought his hands up. Slowly he began to circle Jamie, his long black hair swaying with each movement of his lithe body.

Jamie dropped the lead rope and went for the boy. Lame Wolf swung a leg out to trip him, but Jamie saw it coming and lunged, landing a blow on the Indian's chin even before they hit the ground. They rolled over and strained in the dirt, fists lashing out. Over in the yard, Tru screamed.

Jamie was on top of Lame Wolf, pounding him hard, when a strong pair of hands seized him from behind and hauled him to his feet.

"Stop it!" Jim sounded furious. Lame Wolf sprang from the ground, ready to continue the fight, but Jim stepped between the boys and shoved them farther apart. "I said stop it!"

Jamie was breathing hard. He looked with some satisfaction at Lame Wolf's bloodied mouth and nose. He, too, could taste blood…a slightly different color of blood. And the knowledge that it was not human-red cut like a knife.

"Okay, who started this?" Jim demanded to know.

Jamie glared at the Indian, waiting for him to lay the blame, but Lame Wolf stood silent.

From somewhere nearby, Tru sobbed out his name. "Jamie! Jamie!"

He turned his head to glance at her. Jim's daughter stood just outside the paddock, a limp duckling in her arms.

"He's dead," she cried. "Your doggie killed him, Jamie, he killed him!"

Jamie felt a twisting in his heart. Now even Tru hated him.

"Go home," Jim ordered.

Numbly, Jamie went out of the paddock and unfastened Dusty's leash from the saddle. The big pup bounded happily, oblivious to the trouble he had caused. Leaving Jim's horse behind, Jamie headed home on foot.

Alerted by Tru's crying, Antonia had come out of the house and was doing her best to console the child. Jim turned his attention back to Lame Wolf. The boy's shirt was torn and he was bleeding a bit, but showed no signs of serious distress.

Jim loosed his displeasure. "Now suppose you tell me what this was all about."

Lame Wolf's dark gaze lowered to the ground.

"Why were you two fighting?" When there was no answer, Jim said, "Then I have to consider you both equally at fault. Go inside and clean up."

oooo

T'Naisa was worried. James had still not returned to Plum Creek, and there was no response from his wrist phone, either. After dinner, she rode her horse down the trail toward Jim's ranch, searching, and came back alone. Now, holding Tess to one shoulder, she nervously paced the cabin's living area. With each turn, the seven-month-old baby craned her neck to get a better look at her father. Spock noted the cheerful grin on Tess's face. Though physically she had some Vulcan traits, there was still no sign of telepathic ability or she would be reacting to her mother's negative mood.

T'Naisa stopped suddenly and glared at Spock. "How can you just sit there? Aren't you worried? After all, he's on foot. Jim said so."

"I was observing our daughter," Spock said. "As for James…" He raised a slanted brow and considered. "The boy is fifteen. He knows the area well. At a much younger age, I often ventured alone into the L-langa Mountains of Vulcan."

"And were duly punished."

He nodded. "Quite true. I predict that James will make an appearance in the morning—tired, hungry, and perhaps even contrite. And be assured, he will receive a suitable punishment."

They were indeed at breakfast when the cabin door slowly opened and James crept in.

T'Naisa, who had slept little all night, sighed with relief.

Spock took stock of his son's bruised face, the dirty rumpled clothes, and downcast eyes. "Well then," he said. "Sit down and eat."

Wordlessly James slumped into a chair and attacked the food with the voracious appetite of youth. When James was finished, Spock sent him to shower and change his clothes while he gave a scheduled lecture at the retreat house. Then they all gathered in the little living room to talk. Tess had only recently begun to pull herself to her feet. Oblivious to the tension in the air, the auburn-haired toddler set about practicing her newfound skill.

James was the first to speak. "Father, T'Naisa, I'm sorry. I should have answered your calls. I should have come straight home."

Spock said, "You fought with Lame Wolf."

The boy glowered and rubbed at his bruised jaw. "Don't worry, I'm not going back there. I'm never going to Jim's ranch again."

"You left your horse," T'Naisa said. "Why didn't you ride Biscuit home?"

His face flushed with anger. "He's _not_ my horse. I don't need Jim Kirk or his stinking horse. You bought Sultan, but Biscuit was only a loaner. Maybe I should just steal one, like that Indian. Look at what it got _him_."

Spock had heard quite enough. He was on the verge of a severe response when T'Naisa invited him outdoors for a private consultation.

Away from the cabin, she said, "Spock, he's jealous. Jamie has always enjoyed spending time at Jim's ranch; he even lived there when you were recovering from…" There was no need to finish the sentence. "Now, here comes Lame Wolf, cutting in on his territory."

"Indeed," Spock said. "I agree with your analysis of the situation, but we are rational beings, not animals, and I expect him to behave accordingly."

"Of course, but go gently," she urged.

They returned to the cabin. Tess stretched her arms out to T'Naisa, and she picked up the child. Holding her close, she said, "Jamie, listen to me. Jim took in Lame Wolf because the boy needed a home. It doesn't mean that Jim loves you any less."

His eyes welled with tears. "You don't understand. It's not the same anymore. I…I can't be like them. Don't you see? They're _human."_

An old, familiar pain stabbed at Spock's heart. In a quiet voice he said, "Son, we are none of us the same. Even the full-blooded are different from one another." Drawing a slow breath, he asked, "You provoked the fight, didn't you?"

Frowning, James dashed the tears from his eyes. "What difference does it make? Jim only cares about that Indian, and if that's how he wants it, fine."

oooo

Spock found the situation intolerable. The matter of the slain duck was easily resolved with the purchase of a new Mallard and a lecture on the responsibility of owning a dog. As for the rest, Spock kept James' remarks private and spoke to Jim only about a need for the boys to reconcile. He envisioned a well-supervised conference governed by logic, but Jim came up with a very different idea. Large areas of his ranch were fenced, and the remote perimeters had not been checked in some time. When he suggested sending the boys out into the wilderness together, Spock had serious misgivings. He still found it somewhat difficult to trust Jim's ward, and the attitude of his own son was far from desirable. In the end Jim convinced him that where hard feelings were involved, forcing a cooperative effort might make the boys settle their differences. It was a leadership approach taught to all Starfleet officers, and on occasion Spock had used it himself. Within the week, James and Lame Wolf met at the ranch. Jim outfitted them with mounts and a pair of packhorses to carry the camping and fencing supplies they would need. Dusty's leash was securely leashed to a saddle horn.

Spock kept a close watch on the boys as Jim issued his instructions.

"Take your time. Do it right. Stay together. I don't want to see either of you back here for at least three days."

Jim put Lame Wolf in charge of the map and GPS, which made James bristle. Then he gave James a handheld stun gun to repel predators, and Lame Wolf looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Father took away my phone," James complained.

Jim nodded. "Good…and Lame Wolf doesn't carry one. You'll only have each other for company, so you better get used to it. Now, there's one last thing…" He brought a device out of a shirt pocket that fit neatly into the palm of his hand. "This is a brand reader. Its sensor can identify a tagged animal within a mile. You point it, you push this button, and see?" He aimed it at one of the horses. The boys moved in to look at the screen. "Kirk, James T., along with an ID code."

"Uncle," Lame Wolf asked respectfully, "why do we need it?"

At the word "Uncle", Spock saw James cast an icy glare at his young companion. He placed a cautionary hand on his son's shoulder, and James stiffened at the touch.

Jim's sharp eyes took note of the little exchange. Breaking into a wry smile, he said, "Why? I'll tell you why. Somewhere up in the high country, there's a band of wild horses. Legend has it that they're descended from some of Chief Joseph's own Appaloosas. I know they're real because a couple of years ago I spotted them from my skimmer."

"I, too, have seen them," Lame Wolf volunteered, "but only from a great distance."

Jim nodded. "I suspect that they've worked their way through some gaps in the fence, down into my meadows. Last summer, one of my mares vanished, and Warcloud looked as if he had tangled with another stallion. If you happen to run across the band, use the reader and see if my mare is running with them." He tucked the device into a saddle pack.

As the boys mounted their horses and rode off together, Spock quietly said, "They will savage one another."

Jim turned and studied him with amusement. "We've gone a round or two ourselves—or have you forgotten?"

Spock raised an eyebrow and kept silent. Vulcans never forgot.

oooo

Out on the trail, Jamie let Lame Wolf take the lead. The Indian had the map, and if he got them lost, Jamie would gladly let him take full blame. Soon after they entered the first stand of timber, Lame Wolf noticed that he had fallen behind.

The Indian stopped, looked back at him, and called out, "Uncle said to stay together."

Jamie stubbornly reined in Biscuit.

After a moment, Lame Wolf continued down the trail. Jamie followed at a distance.

They broke out of the woods. The sun shone directly overhead when they reached the fence line. Being partly Vulcan, Jamie was not bothered by the July heat, but he felt hungry. He watched Lame Wolf slide off his horse and secure the reins to a fencepost. Jamie stopped a few yards away, and leaving Biscuit to nibble the meadow grass, took up his canteen and dug in his saddle bag for the sandwiches T'Naisa had prepared. He sat down and shared them with Dusty. Lame Wolf brought out his own food, and finding a spot of shade, ate without looking at him.

After lunch they continued on. An hour up the trail, they came upon a section of deactivated fence. Lame Wolf diagnosed and repaired the system with an expertise Jamie found galling. Jamie decided then and there that he would handle the next break, lest Lame Wolf think himself the only boy Jim had never taught to ride fence. Jamie had been doing it since he was ten.

Before evening, he had his chance. At the fence, he brushed Lame Wolf aside and quickly had it running. A creek flowed nearby. In cold silence, Jamie unsaddled Biscuit and tended to his packhorse. Lame Wolf followed his lead and they each made a little camp without any need for cooperation. Not a word passed between them.

After eating a meal-pack, Jamie stretched out with Dusty close beside him. He spoke to the dog quietly as darkness settled over the land and the air cooled. Then he climbed into his sleeping bag and tried to rest.

The next day they ate another meal-pack in silence and hit the trail early. Jamie hung back while Lame Wolf fixed a small segment of fence. It was late afternoon before they came upon another break deep in the woods. Lame Wolf hopped off his horse and was starting the repair when Jamie caught up.

"It's my turn!" Jamie loudly objected.

Lame Wolf did not look up from his work. "You keep falling behind. I was here."

Angry, Jamie jumped down from Biscuit and gave the Indian a shove. Lame Wolf dropped his tool. Glaring at Jamie, he shoved back.

Jamie flung himself at the Indian. Dusty tugged at his leash and barked in protest as the two boys grappled and rolled in the prickly bed of pine needles and fallen cones. For long minutes they wrestled hard, grunting with exertion, first one of them on top, then the other. Jamie began to tire, but he could tell that the Indian's strength was near its end. Lame Wolf sweated as Jamie straddled him and pinned his wrists to the ground. Breathing hard, they strained and stared venomously into one another's eyes. Then the Indian ceased to struggle.

With a superior smirk, Jamie released him. Dusty fell silent as Jamie climbed off Lame Wolf and stretched out on his back, drained but cherishing the victory. For a time the two boys lay side by side, gazing up into the branches of the tree.

At last Lame Wolf spoke. "You are strong."

Jamie enjoyed the compliment.

"Your tribe came from the stars," Lame Wolf added.

Jamie felt the sweetness of victory fade. Both of them knew he had won the contest only because of his Vulcan strength; his "alien" blood. Defensively he said, "My father is only half…and my mother was completely human."

"T'Naisa?"

"No. T'Naisa is nice, but she isn't my mother." He hesitated, then went on. "My mother was Lauren Fielding. She was a doctor, beautiful, with golden hair. I had a twin sister, too. They were both murdered…by a Vulcan."

Lame Wolf must have heard the bitterness in his voice and said, "One Vulcan did this terrible thing, but not all Vulcans are bad. It is the same with the Shoshone. Sometimes the old aunt's son hit me, yet she and my grandfather White Elk were kind. Yours is a good tribe, too."

Jamie dug his fingers into the dead pine needles and threw a handful to one side. Then he got to his feet and set to work on the fence.

oooo

The trail began to climb higher. Jamie followed Lame Wolf more closely, and at day's end they arrived at the edge of a placid blue lake. It was a good place to camp. Jamie broke out his collapsible fishing pole and quickly caught a string of trout. Lame Wolf had a fire ready. Jamie watched with some trepidation as the Indian lifted a pant leg and pulled a sharp hunting knife from a sheath strapped above his boot. Lame Wolf gutted the fish and strung them on a makeshift rack above the flames.

They ate in silence, keeping their eyes on the thick clouds piling up against the sunset. Off in the distance, thunder began to rumble. A brisk breeze carried the scent of rain. The boys decided to pitch their tent, then hunkered near the fire as darkness descended.

After a while Jamie said, "Whatever happened to _your_ parents?"

The flames of the campfire glinted in Lame Wolf's eyes. "My mother died in a transporter accident. My father was overcome with grief. He left me with White Elk and took his life so he could journey on with her."

Jamie's heart wrenched. How close had his own father come to suicide in those terrible months after Mom and Teresa were murdered?

Lame Wolf said, "You are lucky to have your father. He seems like a good man."

"He is," Jamie conceded, "but sometimes it's like we're living on different planets. He wants me to go to college and be an engineer or something else important, but I just want to pack up a horse and go live in the wilderness…like this."

Lame Wolf nodded. "Uncle also thinks highly of school."

Gusts of wind began to tear at the trees. Lightning illuminated the clouds and forked its way to the ground. Thunder crackled nearby, sending Dusty into Jamie's arms.

"I'm saving my money," Jamie confided. "Someday, I want to buy a piece of land." He stroked the trembling dog. "Have you heard of Gustav Pitney?"

The Indian shook his head.

"He's a poet, a naturalist, and he's inspired a whole movement of people wanting to live closer to nature."

"Like Grandfather teaching me the old ways of the Shoshone."

A bolt of lightning struck a tree across the lake. Jamie watched fire lick at the scorched treetop. A few fat drops of rain pattered down as he said, "Father always talks about 'contributing to society', but I'm not like him…and I'm not like my mom, either. I'm just not into technology. One day I overheard him talking with T'Naisa. He was comparing me to his Uncle Sparn on Vulcan, who used to drift from job to job. T'Naisa said maybe it was because Sparn's parents tried to pressure him into a profession that didn't suit him. That maybe Sparn was meant to be a plomeek farmer. Maybe that would have made him content. T'Naisa always says that whatever you choose to do, the most important thing is to be decent."

"That is true," Lame Wolf agreed.

Now bits of hail began to pelt down. The fire in the distant treetop flickered out.

Jamie said, "Since the western coastline broke up, the land that's left is going cheap. Most people are afraid to live there. It might reach the point where the government practically gives it away."

Lame Wolf appeared to be thinking as a sudden deluge sent them into the tent.

oooo

Morning dawned clear and crisp, but the rays of the sun were already hot. The boys caught and roasted more fish for breakfast, then stripped down for a bracing swim before hitting the trail. They were enjoying the water when Lame Wolf pointed to the southern shore of the little lake.

"Look!" he said.

Jamie turned his head. A band of horses stood at the water's edge, watching them. Even from a distance he could see that a few had distinctive Appaloosa markings. Getting over his astonishment, he swam for shore. Lame Wolf almost overtook him. By the time they climbed out of the water and reached for their clothes, the wild horses were gone.

"That was close," Lame Wolf said. "Closer than I have ever seen them."

Jamie began to dress quickly. "If we hurry, we can catch up."

Lame Wolf was not so optimistic. "They can move fast. At times we might have to go slower or risk losing their trail." But he picked up his pace, too.

Soon everything was packed and they were on their way. The horses' trail led straight up into the high country. While Lame Wolf tracked, Jamie used Jim's GPS and a paper notebook to map their progress. Sometimes the path was clear and they moved rapidly, but then they would encounter a waterway or rocky area that brought them to a standstill. After lunch, they ventured through a narrow gap and emerged on a cliff overlooking a small lake surrounded by lush meadowland. Snowcapped mountain peaks hemmed the hidden valley where a herd of horses grazed peacefully.

With a thrill Jamie exclaimed, "There they are!"

Lame Wolf dismounted, fetched the brand reader, and took aim. "Uncle's horse is with them!"

Jamie got down and worked the reader himself. All the other horses were unbranded, wild. That meant anyone could take them. His excitement grew as he took out binoculars and studied the proud stallion and his band of mares. Jim's gray appaloosa was easy to spot. His interest shifted to a little brown and white pinto with a foal nibbling grass at her side.

Then and there he made up his mind. Putting away the binoculars, he reached into his pack and brought out a lariat.

"You will try to catch Uncle's horse?" Lame Wolf guessed.

Jamie's conscience twinged, but he ignored it. "No. I'm going after that brown pinto for myself. The little colt will follow her; two for the price of one."

The Indian studied him. "You are good with a rope?"

"I've been practicing all year…but I could use your help."

Lame Wolf nodded. "I will help."

As they descended to the valley, they devised a plan. The stallion would pose the biggest danger, for he would be very protective of his herd. It would be best to approach on horseback. Down among the trees, Jamie left his dog with the packhorses. Together with Lame Wolf, he circled wide and entered the meadow downwind from the grazing animals. At the scent of the wild horses, Biscuit nickered. The stallion's head came up. He was a leopard Appaloosa. Black spots stood out starkly on his pure white coat. Arching his thick neck, he pawed the ground and trotted in for a closer look at the intruders.

Jamie gripped his lariat and glanced at Lame Wolf beside him. The Indian was ready, stun gun in hand. At Jamie's nod, they moved their horses forward. The stallion kept watch. As Biscuit began to fidget nervously, Jamie's excitement mounted.

Suddenly the stallion lifted his head and shrieked. His mares raised their heads, too. Focusing on the pinto, Jamie pressed his knees into Biscuit and the horse broke into a smooth canter. Directly beside the pinto, Jim's gray Appaloosa looked his way. The wild mares began to mill around. The pinto came into range. There might be only this one chance. Jamie swung his rope, and making a swift decision, deftly hurled the loop at Jim's horse. With a pang in his heart, he watched the rope settle over the mare's neck and tighten. She jumped with surprise, but barely struggled. After all, the horse had not run wild for long.

Jamie clenched his teeth and took off at a gallop. Behind him, he heard the angry stallion, the hiss of the stun gun. He glanced over his shoulder. Lame Wolf was coming fast on his heels. The stallion lay struggling in the grass, his mares moving in, curious to see what had become of him. He would soon recover.

That night they camped near a waterfall and ate from their provisions. As darkness closed in, the horses were quiet. Jim's mare nuzzled the others as if she was glad to be back with them. At her side, a young leopard filly stood unbridled.

Jamie lay with Dusty, staring up at the sky.

Across the campfire, Lame Wolf said, "Too bad your aim was off. But Uncle will have his horse and a fine filly, too."

Jamie sighed. He did not know why he had changed his target at the last moment, but now he would never have a horse of his own. Somberly he admitted, "My aim wasn't off."

Lame Wolf sat up and looked at him. "Then…then you did a very kind thing."

Jamie was silent for a while before he said, "I've been wondering. Why didn't you tell Jim that I started the fight?"

Lame Wolf's answer came slowly. "Uncle…he always speaks well of you. I didn't want him to know you were at fault."

The words took Jamie by surprise.

Lame Wolf moved a bit closer, his dark eyes shining. "Listen. At court, Uncle arranged for a trust account. Each month I receive tribal payments. Uncle also adds money to it, and I work hard. Perhaps…someday…"He hesitated. "Perhaps we could look for land…together."

 _Looking for land. Together._

Jamie thought with regret of the summer job he had passed up. He would have been leaving for Iowa in a couple of weeks. He would have made good money. Suddenly, his grudge against Jim and Lame Wolf seemed very foolish. True, Jim had given his ward a colt, but only because Lame Wolf had been instrumental in saving its life. There was no racism involved. Jim had always treated Jamie and his entire mixed-blood family with respect.

Sitting up, Jamie held out his hand and said, "Partners?"

With a smile, Lame Wolf grasped his hand and shook it. "We will ride together."

Feeling better, Jamie lay back and looked at the stars, content just to view them from a distance. He patted Dusty, and the dog's tail thumped against him. Lame Wolf returned to the other side of the fire. Sitting with his legs crossed, he lifted his hands and his eyes to the heavens in silent prayer. Jamie found the simple, unembarrassed act touching. Lately he had been neglecting his own prayer life, but the Indian's example helped raise his own thoughts to God.

oooo

For five long days, Spock dealt with his wife's growing concern over Jamie's foray into the wilderness with a boy he detested. All the while Spock presented a calm, reasonable front, when in fact he was still harboring grave doubts of his own.

Jim's call came as a relief.

"They're alive and well," Jim said in greeting, a bit too cheerfully. He, too, had become concerned, and overflying the land in his skimmer, picked up their sensor readings on a wooded trail near home.

Spock left Plum Creek and joined Jim at the ranch, where the boys were expected to arrive within the hour. Had the disciplinary effort failed? Had James and Lame Wolf grown weary of battering one another and decided to limp back?

Jim had just given him a tour of the new, modern stable when the boys rode in. It was just as well that Tru was in town with her mother. That way there would be no distractions.

At first glance, all seemed well enough. Then Jim saw the gray mare on a lead rope, along with her trailing foal.

"Well, I'll be…" he said, striding over.

Spock followed him at a slower pace. Dusty jumped at his leash and barked as Jim patted his lost mare. James and young Lame Wolf looked happy, their faces free of fresh bruises.

"We followed the wild horses!" James said.

"He roped her," Lame Wolf announced.

"You helped," James retorted. "He blasted the stallion with the stun gun. Dropped him on his tail."

The boys dismounted. James met Spock's eyes and smiled a greeting, but his expression grew sheepish as he turned to Kirk. "Uncle Jim, you know that job you arranged for me in Iowa? I suppose it's too late now to try and get it back…"

Jim was startled. "Get it back?"

James shrugged. "I just thought I'd ask…"

Jim gave his attention over to the spotted foal. She was unused to human contact and evaded his touch. "She'll need gentling," he said. "Not pedigreed, but she's a beauty."

"A leopard, like her sire," James told him. He pulled a pad of paper from a saddlebag. "I mapped the trail coordinates to the hidden valley where we captured her. Lame Wolf did a great job of tracking."

Spock was impressed by the change in his son. As Lame Wolf helped Jim put the recovered mare and her foal in the paddock, he said, "James, you have grown."

James gave a self-deprecating shrug. "Oh Father, I was only gone five days."

"I was not referring to your physical stature," Spock explained.

The others had returned. Jim rested a hand on Jamie's shoulder and confided, "About that job. To tell you the truth, I haven't said anything to Lucas yet. I was hoping you'd change your mind. The job is yours…that is, if it's still okay with your old man."

Spock's eyebrow rose of its own accord. _Old man?_ Despite the fact that he was in his eighties, he looked little different from the days when he served under Jim aboard the Enterprise. The same could not be said for rancher Kirk.

James cast him a hopeful glance and Spock nodded his consent.

Jim smiled and clapped his namesake on the back. "And when you get home, there's a little something I'd like you to take off my hands."

Somehow, Spock knew what was about to transpire even before Jim pointed to the spotted foal in the corral.

"She'll take some work," Jim said, "but if you want her, she's yours."

Spock watched his son's face light up as if he had been handed a one million credit account.

"Mine?" James exclaimed breathlessly. "Really? Thanks, Uncle Jim!" Wide-eyed, he ran over to the paddock.

As James admired the white filly with her odd explosion of black spots, Spock wavered on the verge of an adamant refusal. The boy was already so fixated on unscholarly activities that he gave little thought to his future. A horse of his own would make him even less motivated.

James turned and grinned at Spock joyously. "Starburst! Father, how's that for a name?"

Now was the moment say "no". A full-blooded Vulcan would not have hesitated, but Spock was also human, and he found that he could not deprive his son of something so dear to him. Hoping that he would not regret the decision, he loosed a sigh and said, "Yes. Starburst. Most apt.

oooOOooo


End file.
